


Stupid Love

by lightning027 (orphan_account)



Series: Klance week 2016 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Klance Week, Klance Week 2016, M/M, like literally what happened here theres so many things going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lightning027
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance may find Keith attractive, Lance had eyes so of course he did, but that didn't mean he could handle teaming up with that impulsive idiot on the battlefield, or the training room for that matter. Luckily, Allura has an idea (or punishment) that can hopefully bring them closer together. </p><p>For day 2 of Klance week 2016: love/hate</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Love

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to:
> 
> Lance/Caitlin, who gave me the prompt "Keith and Lance get locked in a room together as punishment"
> 
> and Keith/Penny, who cried with me when I started writing angst instead of smut like I was supposed to

Living in a spaceship with only six other people (and four mice) for company was, quite frankly, hell. Lance was a social person. He liked people, he liked talking to new people and making new friends. And he didn’t really mind staying in the castle with everyone, since he had a bunch of family as was used to having a group of people around him. But he was still lonely. He missed his family, he missed the Garrison. He missed meeting new people and he missed being able to see strangers every day. It was something he had taken for granted, seeing new faces every day, new people he could fall in love with or hate, faces that blended into a crowd.

In the castle, Lance saw the same faces every day.

He didn’t think this was going to be a problem. He didn’t really realize that something like this would happen, even though he should have expected it.

Lance had always thought that Keith was attractive. He was bi, he knew an attractive boy when he saw one. But at the time, Lance hadn’t really had time to focus on romance, at least not within the other pilots. He had flirted, of course, mostly with girls, because that was just the way the world worked, and there were some beautiful girls at the Garrison, engineer girls and com spec girls and girls in the town nearby.

Lance was full of affection, full of teenage emotions and hormones, and it overflowed, and it seemed like in the Garrison, when he wasn’t struggling to be a top pilot, he was always out looking for a partner, or pining after one, or flirting with someone.

But then he was stuck in space, and Keith was right under his nose all the time. At the Garrison, Lance had been able to muffle his affection, stifle it with rivalry, ignore Keith in favor of others, distract himself and say that it wasn’t worth it.

But now, Keith was always there. Lance would walk by the training room after washing his face for the night, and there Keith would be, his jacket discarded, muscles taunt and slick under his tight black T-shirt, his hair plastered to his neck and forehead with sweat, brow creased with concentration, long legs moving with such agility and speed as Keith tried to keep up with the assault, and sometimes Lance’s breath caught in his throat, especially the time that Keith’s hair had been pulled into a small ponytail at the base of his head, exposing his pale neck, and Lance had almost choked on his own spit.

Somehow, Lance always ended up next to Keith during meals. After the first day at the castle, they had sort of inadvertently assigned seats, and since Lance had sat next to Keith that first day, that meant he was stuck there. Which wouldn’t be such a problem except that Lance found even his eating unnecessarily attractive – the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, the look of his plush lips wrapped around some utensil – Lance was dying a slow, torturous, death when it came to his attraction to Keith, and there didn’t seem like an end in sight.

Lance though he could keep up the rival thing in the beginning. Thought that maybe it would help him compartmentalize his feelings. But everyone on team Voltron had to work together, as a squad, as partners, including Lance and Keith.

Keith was infuriating at times. Keith was impulsive, he _never_ thought things through, he overestimated his strength, he trusted his intuition too much, and he never shared his feelings with others. And Lance, who, although showy, knew his strengths and weakness, and could easily analyze situations and come up with plans, hated working with Keith. As pretty as Keith was, as beautiful as he looked sweaty and passionate in the heat of battle, he was still a complete idiot sometimes.  It made Lance want to smack some sense into him. It was easy to hate Keith when they were training, easy to keep up the “rival” ruse when Lance did, actually, want to rip Keith’s throat out.

And it turns out that this rivalry, this natural hatred, was Lance’s downfall.

“Stop, stop the simulation!” Shiro yelled. He whipped his helmet off, and Lance had never seen him so angry, so irritated. Shiro was always composed, and even now, Lance could see the tight muscle in his jaw, the strain in his neck that meant their leader was holding back.

“Lance. Keith.” Shiro glared at them, his grip on his helmet tight, too tight, as he addressed them, pent up frustration mixing with anger that Shiro was only barely controlling.

Lance didn’t dare look at Keith, and he couldn’t look at Shiro’s face, either. They had been participating in team drills, against simulator bots, against the small drones that shot lasers their way, against a plethora of things Allura thought they could handle, since they were advancing greatly as a team. And they had done alright, but it was the last task that killed them. The paladins were to make their way across a battlefield, which greatly resembled a laser tag arena, covering each other and battling the simulator until they all made it to the safe zone at the other end.

Keith had charged ahead, without thinking, like usual, and Lance had tackled him to the ground, saving himself from enemy fire, yelling at Keith, calling him an idiot, a fucking moron, and Keith, adrenaline in his veins, had punched Lance, once, twice, and Lance had fought back, because this was uncalled for and he _hated_ Keith he hated Keith _so much_ , and then they were both shot by the simulator.

And Shiro was _furious_.

“I understand that you two didn’t get along back at the Garrison, but we aren’t at the Garrison anymore. We are at _war_ ,” Shiro hissed the last word, his Galra hand clutching so hard at his helmet Lance was surprised it hadn’t cracked yet.  “That means everyone, _everyone_ had to work together. I thought we were making progress, but apparently not, because this is the most inappropriate, destructive thing you two have _ever_ done. And I’m not going to stand for it.”

Lance chanced a glance at the black paladin, and he immediately regretted it. Shiro looked like he was ready to shove both of them into the airlock and shoot them into deep space.

“Shiro’s right. That was absolutely unacceptable. If you two ever did that in a real battle, you would put not just your lives, but the lives of all of the paladins in danger,” Allura said over the com.

“The only way to fix this team is for Keith and Lance to get along, and luckily, the castle is equipped for situations such as these,” Allura said. Lance swallowed dryly.

“Equipped?”

Thirty minutes later, and one Shiro emotional 180 (“Allura, can’t you find something a bit more humane, I mean they weren’t _that_ bad-“) later, Keith and Lance were being shoved into a small room. It looked similar to the paladin’s quarters, except smaller, more cramped, with only enough room for a single bed, a single, but large chair, and a single table. There was a flap at the bottom of the door, like Lance had seen on solitary confinement cells on TV.

“Three hours. I want talking, I want you two to come out of there cooperating, do whatever it takes,” Allura said, straight faced and arms crossed as Shiro, Pidge and Hunk stood behind her. Pidge looked mostly curious, Hunk looked petrified, like Allura was sending them to their death, and Shiro looked like he was upset that he was partially responsible for this situation.

Before Keith or Lance could say another word, the door shut, and they were bathed in a dim light. Keith sighed, rolled his eyes, and sat on the chair, crossing his legs and purposefully not looking at Lance.

Lance, still reeling from the reality that he was going to be stuck in one tiny room for three hours, was absolutely furious when Keith did this. What a brat, what a prick, a _fucking jackass_ –

“Didn’t you hear Allura! We’re supposed to talk, not sulk like a whiny baby,” Lance practically spat, a hand on his hip. Keith just continued to ignore him.

“The silent treatment? Seriously Keith? Is that what you’re gonna do, pout because you go in trouble instead of facing the problem? That’s the thing, the problem is you never think! You always act first and you fling yourself headfirst into things and you’re gonna get yourself fucking killed-!”

Keith whipped around in the chair, sneer present on his face, a look of pure disgust.

“That’s what I’m like, that’s what I’m supposed to do, I’m the red paladin Lance, the impulsive one, and you’re just an ignorant jackass who can’t deal with people who don’t think the way you do!” Keith spat, and it hurt. It was like Lance had been stabbed.

“Is that seriously what you think? Did you even mull that over for a single second before you said that, because that’s not the problem at all!” Lance spat back. He felt like he might cry, but he couldn’t. It was dim, but if he cried, he knew Keith would see. And it was bad, because now Lance was thinking, thinking about things that he’d never thought of before. Why did he hate Keith’s impulsiveness so much? Why did it make him so angry? He thought it would annoy anyone, make anyone feel this way, but maybe it didn’t. Why did Lance hate this part of Keith so much?

“Then what is the problem, why do you hate me so much?!” Keith shrieked, and it sounded hysterical, like a sob was bubbling in Keith’s chest.  Lance was close to crying too now, just that sound, that hitch in Keith’s voice, killed him.

“You keep doing stupid shit! You put yourself in danger and you’re gonna die, you’re gonna _fucking die_ because you’re such a _moron_!” Lance yelled, and shit, he was crying now, he didn’t know what he was saying, and his hands were balling in fists at his sides, and his knees were locked from standing, and he was crying.

“What?!” Keith cried, and he sounded like he couldn’t believe what Lance just said, like he was ready to punch Lance in the face.

“I don’t want you to **_die_**!” Lance screamed, and until he said it, he hadn’t known it was true, but now that it was spoken, now that it was out in the open, he knew it was true. His frustration, his annoyance, his anger, his hatred that he directed at Keith, it wasn’t hatred at all. It was stupid, stupid love, that same emotion he felt when he looked at Keith at the dinner table or while watching him train, and it was tearing Lance apart, now that he knew he couldn’t escape it, that love could disguise itself as hate and worm its way into his heart and break it like this.

Lance was crying now, crying for real, and his sobs caught up to him all at once, and he fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands, tears running down his face already, sobs leaving him breathless and scared and broken, and he wasn’t even thinking about Keith now, he was just trying to reign in all this emotion, this emotion he didn’t truly understand that was sending him reeling.

“L-Lance?” Keith stuttered, words caught in his throat. Lance couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t, he would start crying harder. Lance had gotten them into this stupid situation. He thought he could stop himself from getting attached, from being weird, but everything he did was being turned around on him, the thing that he used to distance himself from Keith was actually just pulling him closer, and Lance felt everything _too much_.

“Lance, are you crying?” Keith said, slowly, his voice closer now, as if he got up from his seat and was sitting next to Lance on the ground.

Lance, anxious, scared, worried that Keith would make fun of him. Would tease him for crying, even though his tone seemed anything but teasing. Lance just sobbed harder, grabbing his hair with his hands.

“Lance, Lance, it’s okay, don’t cry, it’s-“ Keith hand his hands over Lance’s, trying to pull them away from where they were, where Lance was pulling his own hair, almost painfully. Keith’s voice shook, thick with emotion, and Lance let him move his hands, and as soon as they looked at each other, Lance saw small tears forming in Keith’s beautiful purple eyes, his shoulders shaking with the effort of contain his emotion, his lower lip quivering with suppressed sobs, and Lance felt something in him snap.

Lance’s emotions were like a river, ever, flowing, one that Lance had tried to dam, carefully building it, piece by piece, each log a distraction, an excuse, a social expectation that prevented Lance from being himself, a rejection from someone who he liked, a reason to suppress his affection, so that only the platonic feelings flowed through, the acceptable things, the things he could do with Hunk or Pidge that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Keith was a fire, his presence, his emotion, the simple act of empathy unknowingly fierce, burning down every inch of that dam.

So Lance sobbed loudly, and wrapped Keith in his arms and pulled him as close as he could go, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose at Keith’s neck, his hands cradling Keith’s back, never wanting to let him go, enveloped by a powerful urge to protect, to shield Keith, from the world, from his own reckless tendencies, to wrap him up and keep him safe and maybe, for just one moment, to take him away from Voltron and fighting and war and give him love instead.

“Keith,” Lance croaked out, and it didn’t sound good, his throat clogged with sobs and dry from crying, his tears now stopped and replaced by hiccupping sobs that accompanied the beat of Lance’s heart, fast and soaring now that he had Keith in his arms, unable to stop himself from adding immeasurable joy to the concoction of conflicting emotions.

“Lance?” Keith replied, his voice wavering, still fighting off tears, surprised by whatever this turn of events was, surprised by this Lance, the way Lance hugged him tight, the way Lance cried from worry.

Lance tried to calm himself, tried to stop his ragged breathing, his nose pressed to Keith’s smooth neck, Keith’s hair tickling his forehead, his lips so close to that collarbone he had dreamt of kissing.  He had to say something. He couldn’t just leave it like this.

“I – I. I care about you,” Lance said, because he couldn’t say love, not yet, not right off the bat, not while Keith sounded like he might cry and was stuck in a dim room where he couldn’t escape.

Keith pulled away, pulled back to look Lance in the face, his expression searching, his eyes still watery, his hair a mess.

“Do you mean that?” Keith asked, as if confused, as if no one had ever told Keith that before.

“Of course! I wouldn’t lie about that!” Lance said doing his best to maintain eye contact so Keith saw exactly how serious he was. Keith looked away, worrying his bottom lip, and Lance’s stomach did a flip, because Keith biting his lip was beautiful, _Keith_ was beautiful, and Lance was so full of _feeling_ that he just wanted to kiss Keith, just wanted to show him how much he cared, but he didn’t want Keith to hate him, hate him for real this time.

“I think I… I think I care about you too,” Keith said, quietly, looking down, pulling on his fingers, his face probably flushed even though Lance couldn’t tell in the low light. So Lance rubbed his hands over Keith’s back in what he thought was soothing, was comforting and friendly, but Keith’s breath hitched. Keith’s eyes slid shut and he let himself go limp under Lance’s ministrations, his forehead resting against Lance’s, his bangs tickling Lance’s nose, his breath ghosting over Lance’s lips, and Lance thought that if there was a heaven, this was probably it.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Lance whispered, his thumbs rubbing circles over the thin cotton of Keith’s shirt. “For calling you a moron.”

Keith shivered, his body stuck between falling into putty at Lance’s touch and arching back to meet his hands.  “You don’t have to be sorry. I think we needed it.”

Lance smirked, a little daring now, a little more like he normally was, and he slid a hand under Keith’s shirt, continuing his slow, comforting circles, enjoying the hitch in Keith’s voice, the slight tensing and relaxing of his muscles, the hands that were slowly finding their way to Lance’s hips.

“What’s this? Keith? Agreeing with me? Being civil?” Lance joked, sliding his other hand under Keith’s shirt as well, and he felt Keith’s finger squeeze his thighs, and oh _no_ , that felt _good_. Lance’s smirk was replaced with a swift gasp, and Lance could tell that Keith was probably smiling, that beautiful, adorable, _asshole_.

“Sometimes your plans are decent, like you said, I’m not a moron,” Keith said, and their faces were so close, their noses were touching, slotted next to each other, their lips were millimeters apart, and Lance was so out of it that his hands weren’t pressing their soothing circles anymore, but were traveling up Keith’s back, tracing his spine, slipping over his shoulder blades, his touch alternating between feather light and soothing, because Keith’s skin was so warm and soft and he couldn’t get enough.

Keith’s breathing was speeding up, his hands kneading into Lance’s thighs, both of them wanting it, but too afraid to make the first move, until Lance pressed a bit too hard on Keith’s back, and it was just enough for their lips to brush, both of them gasping before Keith dove in for a real kiss.

It was soft but needy, Keith’s ministrations so unmistakably _Keith_ , impulsive, a bit too passionate, inexperienced but enthusiastic, and it was just what Lance needed, so he kissed back just the same, moving his hand to Keith’s lower back and leaning back himself, effectively pulling the red paladin onto his lap, never breaking their kiss. Keith was growing bolder now, with his wandering hands, one skimming the edge of Lance’s shirt, teasing him with the thought of his hands on Lance’s stomach, of his hands _lower_.

Lance deepened the kiss, switching sides and swiping his tongue over Keith’s bottom lip. Keith opened his mouth easily, and god was the heat amazing, the feeling of Keith’s tongue on his, Keith sucking lightly on his tongue if Lance changed positions, Lance exploring the texture of the other’s mouth. It was intoxicating – Lance had been kissed before, but never like this.

Keith slid his hand up Lance’s shirt, and Lance yelped, his own hands gripping tight to Keith’s ribs in shock. Keith only chuckled into the kiss, their lips brushing lightly now that Keith was smiling, the pads of his fingers trailing up Lance’s stomach until he reached his chest.

“Take this off,” Keith breathed. Lance stiffened.

“Are you… sure you want this?” Lance asked. Lance put on a bit of a show, he was always talking about how good he was romantically, how good he was in bed, but he was a virgin, he was all talk. And Keith, well, he loved Keith, and he wanted to do everything with Keith, but did he really want to do everything right now?

“I want your shirt off, yeah. Lance, we can stop whenever you feel uncomfortable, whatever happens, happens. Go with the flow. You don’t always have to have a plan,” Keith whispered, his lips brushing the outer shell of Lance’s ear before ghosting his teeth over cartilage, then sucking on the lobe, and Lance shivered. Keith had. A good point. Especially while his tongue was moving just like that.

“Okay,” Lance breathed, and they broke apart, Keith throwing Lance’s shirt off, and Lance mimicking the motion with Keith’s shirt, until their chests were pressed together, and they were both panting, the heat and the sensation of skin on skin, when they’d never experienced it before almost enough to sate them. But not quite.

“The bed,” Lance whispered, because in the few seconds he wasn’t kissing Keith, he seemed to have gained a shred of his common sense back, and realized that he was literally on the floor, leaning against the bedframe, instead of on the bed like a normal person.

“Probably a good idea,” Keith replied with a laugh, and Lance couldn’t help but be stunned, the way Keith’s eyes crinkled when he smiles, the little dimple on his left cheek. He fell in love a little more with each passing second.

They moved to the bed, and Keith had the bright idea to discard their pants as well, and now here they were, in their underwear, Lance in-between Keith’s legs, which were wrapped tightly around his hips. Lance shuddered at the contact, of the reality of this, as he threaded his hand through Keith’s hair, making sure to tease the strands near the base of the other’s neck, where he was most sensitive, and he felt Keith shudder with his whole body, and oh god, Keith was hard against his stomach.

Lance elected to ignore this information, instead moving to kiss Keith’s pale neck, like he’d always wanted to. He kissed under his jaw, nipping and planting open-mouthed kissing until he sucked at the junction of Keith’s shoulder and neck, and Keith moaned. He moaned and rutted against Lance, squirming against the other arm wrapped around his waist, and both boys blushed, Lance looking up at Keith.

Even in the low lighting, he could tell Keith was embarrassed, but he was also panting, and he was looking at Lance in a way that made his heart soar and his dick throb, Keith’s eyes lidded, his pupils blown wide. So Lance took Keith’s advice and just let himself be impulse, let himself do what felt right, so he buried his face in Keith’s neck and planted a chaste kiss there, nuzzling without even really realizing it.

“Keith, you’re beautiful,” Lance murmured between kisses, letting out a long, content sigh. He felt, with his head pressed into Keith’s shoulder, his breath hitch and his heartrate skyrocket.

“ _Lance,_ ” Keith groaned, tilting his head back into the pillows, covering his face with his hand, obviously flustered. Lance hummed quietly against Keith’s neck.

“L-Lance…?” Keith said again, this time a bit softer. Lance lifted his head, an eyebrows raised in response to Keith’s questioning tone.

“Yeah?”

“I. I want to try something. Can I?” Keith asked, licking his lips. Lance bit his own, unconsciously mimicking the other, and nodded.

Keith pushed Lance off of him, sliding out of his position, directing Lance to lie on his back. Keith knelt between Lance’s legs, and the lines of Keith’s chest, the way the light played off his shoulders, the hickey, faint but still striking against his pale skin, the way he looked when he carded his hand through his dark bangs. Lance was a goner, whatever Keith had planned would probably kill him, he was so whipped already.

Keith took a deep breath and slid even further down the bed, so that his face was level with Lance’s navel, and he was oh, oh, Keith was planning to-

Keith kissed the soft skin of Lance’s stomach, letting his thumb slip just below the elastic of his boxers, sliding them down just slightly, kissing the newly exposed skin, his other hand kneading at Lance’s thigh. Lance was painfully hard, and Keith was so good, unnaturally good, at making him fall apart.

Keith’s hand danced over the bulge in Lance’s boxers, touch feather light, and Lance was ready to beg, he didn’t have much pride to begin with, because this was torture.

“Keith, you fucking tease,” Lance moaned, bucking into Keith’s touch, and Keith laughed, a good-spirited, tinkling laugh, and he laid his cheek on Lance’s thigh, palming him through his boxers as Lance bucked again and groaned in frustration.

“Keith, please,” Lance whined, and that seemed to be the magic word, because Keith was finally sliding off his boxers.

“Well, since you said please,” Keith smirked, but Lance could tell he was nervous too, and excited, and this was all so new, so exciting, and he knew he felt the same way Keith did.

He wrapped a hand around Lance’s dick, which stood at attention now that it was free from its confinement. Keith closed his eyes, licking a long strip from base to tip, and Lance was already gripping the sheets tight, his legs tensing. Keith steadied himself with the hand on Lance’s thigh, and took the head into his mouth, and to be honest, Keith wasn’t the best. Lance could feel the slight scrape of teeth and the suction wasn’t quite right, and it left him frustrated, because he was so, so close, but Keith didn’t know what he was doing, neither of them did.

“Keith, ah,” Lance tried to speak, but then Keith took more into his mouth, swirling his tongue to slick Lance and make it easier, pumping what he couldn’t fit with his hand, and Lance’s critiques stuck in his throat, because Keith might not know how to use his mouth, but he sure as hell knew how to use that hand, and then Keith was talking more of him in, before sucking towards the tip, and Keith sucked, he did, and that pressure was almost too much for Lance.

Lance bucked, and he screamed a little, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other tugging at his own hair, because what before was nowhere near enough was now so much, too much.

Keith pushed his hips down with both hands, manhandling Lance in a way that made the muscles in his thighs twitch, and his toes curl, and then Keith was going down again, his tongue curling around Lance’s dick, and then he was sucking again, and oh god. Lance was done, he was gone, he tried to muffle his yell but it didn’t work and he came, his heels pressing into the bedspread and his back arching.

Keith swallowed around him, and when Lance opened his eyes afterwards, Keith was smirking at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That good?” he taunted, but it was playful, and it was sexy, and Lance physically could not get hard again this quickly, but Keith was making him rethink both biology _and_ physics.

Lance couldn’t move, his legs felt like jelly and he truly believed that he could just stay in this bed for another three days and he still wouldn’t be ready to move.

“Hoo,” was the only thing Lance managed to say, and it sent both of them into a fit of laughter, and it brought Lance back to life, brought him out of the blissful haze that was post orgasm and into reality, and in reality, Keith continued to give him bedroom eyes, and still had an impressive erection.

And Lance, as Lance often does, had an idea.

“I think I can do better,” Lance said, with a smirk that he hoped was as sexy as he thought it was, and it must have done something, because Keith was biting his lip now, although the smirk hadn’t left his face.

“Always gotta one-up me, huh?” Keith quipped, as they switched positions easily, Keith discarding his boxer and then Lance lifting Keith’s legs over his shoulders, rubbing his nose against the smooth skin along Keith’s inner thigh, placing chaste kisses where they had absolutely no business being. Keith watched him, and Lance watch him watch, Keith’s hungry eyes spurring him on, even though he was nervous, was a novice when it came to all of this. But Lance had always been quick learner.

Lance’s kissing grew more and more intense, sucking on Keith’s thighs, laving his marks with his tongue, scraping with teeth, enjoying Keith’s heels in his back, pushing him closer. Lance’s hands made their way to Keith’s ass and squeezed, and Keith moaned, his back arching and his dick slapping loudly against his stomach. Lance kneaded, brushing his index finger over Keith’s hole, and Keith’s eyes widened, finally realizing what Lance had on his mind, that this wasn’t going to be a blowjob.

“Ah Lance –Ah!” Keith close his eyes as Lance reached his destination, his tongue tentatively licking over Keith’s hole. His legs tightened, and he threaded a hand through Lance’s hair.

“Oh God,” Keith choked out, and Lance was thoroughly encouraged, so he continued. He licked a stripe from back to front before circling, gently easing into Keith’s heat. Keith was panting, actually panting, the hand not in Lance’s hair gripping and tightening and loosening around the sheets as Lance worked his was inside, as far as he could go. It felt strange, but not in a bad way, and everything was so hot and slick and it was making Keith go insane.

When Lance added a finger, at first Keith didn’t really noticed, too preoccupied with Lance’s tongue, but then Lance was pushing deeper than before, and Lance brushed against something that made Keith completely freeze, a keening moan ripped from his throat.

Lance could tell Keith was close, he would come soon, too soon, just like Lance did. So Lance pulled out all the stops, rubbing that spot again, his tongue working in tandem with his finger as he reached around and pumped Keith.

Keith was not quiet, he didn’t even attempt to smother his yells as he came, too busy pushing Lance deeper, his hands threaded in his hair, Keith’s heels probably leaving bruises on Lance’s ribs as Keith came all over his stomach a chest. He threw his head back, long neck exposed and his shoulders visibly quaking, and Lance dearly wished he could have watched Keith come, but he was still pretty content with his position between Keith’s legs as well.

When Keith released his death grip on Lance’s hair, Lance, pulled back and licked his lips. Keith was too busy trying to catch his breath to notice, his gaze focused on the darkness that was the ceiling. So, Lance smirked, and in true Lance fashion, asked,

“That good, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> So. I don't know what happened when I was writing this. It's all over the place but I hope you liked it anyway!


End file.
